It’s Arya’s first week in the nursery. Let’s face it – I was dreading it for a year, slightly calmed down last week when the settling in days were rather OK with Arya taking them quite well but this week – I’m all shattered, sick with stress and slightly down.
Why do I insist on a nursery? – you ask. I can present you a handful of reasons, for example:
- I simply lack the entertaining power to a growing toddler and she needs stimulus and other children around
- I always believed that if one wants to have a child one must provide for them and hence I need to go back and earn dosh
OK, that’s just two but I’m sure if I spent more time thinking over it I would probably find 10 more but I have no time now (well, when do I?). These two, however are the most essential in this decision making process which has now been completed.
The nursery is just around the corner from my office and the plan is to have Arya there for three days when I go the office. The remaining two days – she stays with me for the time being.
Monday was great, considering the circumstances, which is getting up at 6am, rushing to the busy Bloomsbury area and hearing Arya’s cry behind the closing door was just a beginning of an on and off activity, which luckily I didn’t whiteness for Theresa of the day but which I could spot on Arya’s face in the photos sent by the nursery teacher.
My stomach was churning for the whole 8 solid hours, tears secretly wiped off my cheek now and then and 4pm sharp I was at the nursery door missing my baby.
The second morning looked pretty much like this:
I’m constantly stressed. The teacher doesn’t help continuously saying that when Arya cries the whole day, she puts other children in distress and she [the teacher] doesn’t want that. I felt like this is not a very pleasant thing to say. As a nursery teacher she could be more supportive and speak about how we all could work on this problem rather than make me even sicker with stress. I’ve got a feeling that someone (moi) will speak up here.
Currently I’m in shreds…